


Creature Comforts

by songs_of_the_moon



Category: Naruto
Genre: Abuse of italics, Animals, BFFs, Confusion, Fluff, Humor, I bet Hyuugas have all the best gossip, I have kind of A Thing about Hands, Jealousy, M/M, Nara Shikaku: best/worst wingman in Konoha, Neji is a little shit, Overprotectiveness, Pining, Politics, Rock Lee's Affection Erection, communication!, drunk senseis, improper use of origami, jerky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songs_of_the_moon/pseuds/songs_of_the_moon
Summary: Animals have always liked Lee. The same cannot be said for Gaara.





	1. Chapter 1

Lee had been kneeling for several minutes, scratching the old dog under the chin. His knees were damp from the grass, and the dog was drooling on him, but the way his tail thumped happily made it worthwhile.

The dog wasn’t a stray, exactly, but he didn’t really belong to anyone either. The entire barracks seemed to take care of him, putting out food and water, and letting him inside when the weather was bad (or they wanted company, or the dog did). The shinobi who lived in the bachelor barracks mostly just called him _dog_ , but Lee had become entirely enamored of him during their short acquaintance and dubbed him Fluffy. The name suited the friendly mutt better than his distinct lack of fluffiness may have suggested.

Lee was supposed to be training with Kakashi today. Gai-sensei had suggested it, saying it would do him good to have practice against a wide range of opponents. Lee, of course, had agreed enthusiastically. Any idea of his sensei’s was sure to be a good one, and, if he was very lucky, Lee might learn a bit more about him from his Eternal Rival.

He had been waiting outside the barracks, as instructed, for fifteen minutes. Gai had warned him that Kakashi was rarely punctual, but Lee wasn’t sure how someone could be late to meet someone literally on their doorstep. He was half-tempted to go inside and start banging on doors until he found Kakashi’s, but he didn’t want to bother anyone else unnecessarily. If Kakashi didn’t show up soon, though…

Fluffy lifted his head, then stood and began to growl. Lee leapt to his feet to face the threat.

Gaara stared back at him, ignoring Fluffy entirely. “Lee.” His voice was dry as a desert wind.

“Gaara! I’m so happy to see you! What are you doing he—” Lee’s propriety caught up with him before he attempted to embrace his friend. “Kazekage-sama, it is in an honor to have you here.” He bowed, trying not to hear Fluffy’s growling.

“Don’t.”

Lee looked up. “Gaara? I mean, sir?”

“Don't do that. Speak to me normally.” Gaara finally shifted his gaze to Fluffy. The growling cut off with a piteous whine, and Fluffy slunk behind Lee, tail between his legs. “Is that creature yours?”

“No, no—I'm just waiting here for Kakashi-sensei. Oh! Are you looking for him too?” Lee shuffled his feet, torn between trying to calm Fluffy and watching Gaara.

“No.” Gaara dragged his gaze back to Lee’s face. “I was told I would find you here.”

“And so you have!” Lee laughed a bit nervously. Gai and Kakashi were the only people who could have told him that, and Fluffy was still whining softly. “Whatever you wish to ask of me, I will gladly give it my all!”

Gaara studied him with a strange expression. “The final round of the Chunin Exam starts tomorrow morning,” he said eventually. “I want you to accompany me.”

“That—I would be honored!” Lee had been planning to attend anyway, but going with Gaara would surely be better than watching by himself. “But, is that all right?” Gaara would be seated with the other dignitaries, not down in the stands with the rowdy hoi polloi.

“It is if I say it is.” Gaara crossed his arms. “I was told I could bring a guest. No further specifications were given.”

“In that case, I will gladly go with you,” Lee said, more confidently than he felt.

Gaara nodded once, little more than a twitch of his head. “I will meet you at quarter to eight.”

The first match wasn't scheduled to start until eight thirty, but Lee wasn't going to complain about extra time with his friend. “Wonderful!” Lee’s conscience finally got the better of him, and he dropped back to his knees to try to soothe Fluffy.

“It fears me,” Gaara rasped. Lee thought he could detect a hint of regret in that quiet voice, but he couldn't be certain. “They always have. I had thought that might change, after I lost Shukaku, but still they cower and cringe at my approach.”

Lee hoped Gaara was just talking about dogs. “I can show you how to make him more comfortable around you,” he offered. “Come here.” Lee patted the dewy grass beside him.

“Whatever you’re planning, it won't work.” Gaara approached them anyway. His pace was slow and measured.

“You should be more optimistic. Now kneel or sit, make yourself seem smaller.”

Gaara crouched, still eyeing the dog warily.

“He probably won't let you pet him right away.” Lee patted Fluffy’s flank reassuringly, moving slowly so as not to startle him.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Ah, er.” Lee scrunched his face up. “Well, dogs and cats and the like are usually soft, so they're nice to touch. Lots of people find petting or cuddling animals comforting, too. And it should make the animal happy, which makes the person petting it happy.”

Gaara looked unconvinced, but he made no move to leave.

“I have an idea,” Lee said. He pulled a few strips of jerky from one of the pockets of his vest, then gave half of one to Gaara. Tenten would be mad at him for feeding the snack she'd given him to a dog; he would be sure to apologize next time he saw her. “Hold it out, then let Fluffy come to you. It might take a minute or two.”

Gaara did as Lee said, holding the jerky awkwardly in his fingertips.

After several very long seconds, Fluffy took a tentative step toward Gaara and the jerky. He sniffed. Gaara held so still Lee wasn't sure he was breathing. In fits and starts, Fluffy closed the gap. Finally, finally, he was close enough to pluck the jerky away. He immediately ran off with his prize, hiding in the small lean-to someone had built against a tree.

“Well done, Gaara!” Lee clapped him on the back. Sand coiled loosely around his wrist but didn't stop him. “Do you want to try to give him another piece?”

Gaara was staring at his hand like it belonged to someone else. “No animal has ever willingly approached me before.”

That. . . was one of the most tragic things Lee had ever heard, but telling Gaara that would be both counterproductive and very cruel. “Then I'm glad you got to have this experience. Trying new things is the essence of Youth!” Lee’s chest swelled with pride when Gaara nodded. Feeling suddenly bold, he blurted, “There's a festival tonight.”

“Yes.”

Lee took a deep breath. “Do you want to go with me?”

“I can't. The Hokage is hosting a party, and I'm expected to attend.” Gaara made a face like someone had asked him to drink swamp water. Lee doubted Tsunade was any more excited.

“Your duties come first, of course. I understand.” That didn't mean he liked it. “I shall await tomorrow morning all the more eagerly!”

Gaara studied him. “I would rather go to the festival with you.” He disappeared before Lee had a chance to respond, leaving a swirl of sand and heat rising in Lee's cheeks.

“Oops, did I scare him off? And you were having such a tender moment.”

Lee stood and faced the familiar voice.

Kakashi was walking towards Fluffy’s lean-to, one hand in his pocket, the other holding open that deplorable book of his. He was coming from the opposite direction of the barracks.

Lee sputtered incoherently for a moment, red-faced, before managing, “You’re late!”

“Am I?” Kakashi laughed. “I think I’m right on time. Unless you wish I’d been later?” He somehow managed to make his leer obvious with only a quarter of his face visible, which Lee probably would have found impressive under other circumstances.

“We have wasted enough time already. We should begin training immediately!” Ignoring Kakashi’s insinuations was probably the best way to deal with them, Lee decided. Or at least the method least likely to end with him dead from embarrassment.

Kakashi sighed theatrically. “You really are Gai’s protegé,” he muttered.

Lee channelled all his confusion and frustration into his training. If Kakashi had anything to say about his ferocity, he kept it to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

The festival crowd was raucous, halfway to drunk even though it was barely twilight. Lee moved easily through the throng. He found Choji and Shikamaru at a food stall. The former seemed to be in an eating competition against an Inuzuka and her dog. If the piles of bowls were any indication, Choji was winning

Shikamaru turned to Lee and waved. Lee waved back.

“I need to talk to you,” Shikamaru said, once Lee was close enough to hear him over the din. His tone was as easygoing as ever, but his shoulders were tense.

Lee frowned. “Is something wrong? What happened?”

“Calm down, nothing happened.” Shikamaru rubbed the back of his neck, then jammed his hands into his pockets with unusual agitation. “Choji’ll be fine by himself. Let's go somewhere we can talk without shouting.” He shambled off into the crowd. Lee followed, mind racing.

If someone was hurt, Shikamaru wouldn't have said that nothing happened, would he? And it couldn't have been anything to do with the safety of the village—that kind of conversation required somewhere private, not just quiet, and would surely involve more than just the two of them.

Lee's thoughts were interrupted by a heavy sigh. “This should do. God, this is such a hassle.” Shikamaru had taken them off the main street into an alley. He shuffled his feet, looking anywhere but Lee. “We're friends, yeah?”

“Of course!” Lee wasn't as close to Shikamaru as some of his other friends, but he knew he'd be there if he needed him.

Shikamaru sighed again. “As the only one of your friends with any sense, I have to ask you this. I respect you enough to let you make your own choices, so I'm only going to do it once. This. . . _thing_ you have with the Kazekage—are you sure it's a good idea?”

“What thing?”

“Your, you know,” Shikamaru waved his hands, “ _relationship_.” He grimaced.

“Relationship. . . ? We're friends.” Lee crossed his arms. “Whatever it is you’re trying to say, Shikamaru, just spit it out.” Lee had never been one for subtlety, and it was unlike Shikamaru to beat around the bush. The whole thing was making Lee nervous.

“You're his date to the finals tomorrow. That seems a little more than friendly.”

“It's not a date!” Lee flushed. “And even if it were, I'd still think it was a good idea.” He mumbled the last bit to Shikamaru’s collar, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

“Okay,” Shikamaru said.

Lee looked up. “Okay? That's it?”

“That's it.” Shikamaru started back toward the festival. “I'm not going to meddle in your personal life. If you want to date unstable foreign leaders, that's your business.”

“It's not a date!” Lee insisted, scrambling after him.

Shikamaru laughed. “Whatever, Lee. Just be careful with him, okay? For his sake, since I know you won't do it for your own.”

“I would never do anything to hurt him,” Lee said, offended.

“Yeah.” Shikamaru gave him an inscrutable look. “I know.” He melted into the crowd with a final, “See you around,” called over his shoulder.

 _What a strange guy_. Lee realized with a start that he didn’t know how Shikamaru had found out about his plans. Shaking his head, he re-entered the fray and let himself be pulled along by the current.

He had come to the festival with no real plan other than to enjoy himself, but he kept getting distracted. Everything seemed to make him think of Gaara. One woman was selling small hand-carved statues made of sandstone. Several stalls had calamari, which Lee knew Gaara had never eaten but wanted to try. One booth had a display of cacti. The only one in bloom had _love_ written on the pot. It was maddening.

Lee blamed his preoccupation on Shikamaru’s strange line of questioning. Gaara was his friend. They’d been exchanging letters for some time. There were, of course, some things that simply couldn’t be shared with a foreign shinobi, but even with those restrictions Lee felt like Gaara knew him better than anybody except Gai-sensei (and maybe Neji, but the less Lee thought about Neji’s habit of mentally picking people apart, the better).

They were friends. Wanting anything more was selfish and unrealistic. Lee was happy with what they had already. And Gaara had never shown any interest in romance.

 _Until he asked you on a date_. The voice in Lee’s head sounded like a distressingly smug combination of Neji and Shikamaru.

 _It’s not a date!_ Friends went on outings together all the time. He certainly wasn’t dating Neji or Tenten or Naruto.

Lee shook his head. Arguing with himself was getting him nowhere. He needed to talk to Gai-sensei.

* * *

 

Lee found Gai after only a few minutes of searching. He, Kakashi, and Iruka had claimed a fountain for themselves and were defending it with sloppily folded but expertly thrown origami shuriken. They were all very drunk.

“Hello.” Lee waved, careful to stay outside of the paper lined perimeter.

“Lee!” Gai staggered to his feet. Iruka began to giggle. “My star pupil! The bearer of the Torch of Youthful Vigor and Determination!” He took a step toward Lee, but dropped to his knees when Kakashi hit him in the temple with a paper shuriken.

“If you leave,” Kakashi said carefully, “we aren’t letting you back in.” Iruka tried unsuccessfully to smother his laughter against Kakashi’s shoulder.

“I had expected such betrayal from you, Kakashi, but Iruka!” Gai shook his head, wearing a tragic expression. “I expected better from a fine upstanding shinobi like you.”

“There’s a lewd joke in there, but I’m too drunk to make it,” Kakashi said. He stretched his legs, knocking over an empty bottle. It rolled past their defensive line and came to a stop against Lee’s toes.

“Perhaps I should go.” Lee stepped back, away from the bottle.

“Wait! Will you not stay to defend me against these two scoundrels?”

The scoundrels in question were leaning against each other and shaking with laughter.

“I, uh.” Lee looked from Gai to Kakashi and Iruka.

Gai suddenly lunged forward and scooped up a handful of paper shuriken. He spun, throwing two. Kakashi and Iruka both toppled backwards into the fountain. Gai leapt to his feet and whooped triumphantly.

Kakashi stood, then helped Iruka up. With his wet hair falling in his face, he didn’t look much like the powerful jounin that Lee knew him to be. “You know what this means, of course.”

Gai grinned. “Of course.” He took off, heading for the rooftops, Kakashi hot on his heels. Iruka followed, lagging behind but shouting encouragements. Lee wasn’t sure who they were for.

 _That went well_. It was the Neji-Shikamaru voice again, still unbearably pleased with itself.

Lee sighed. He’d try again tomorrow, and hope that Gai wasn’t too hungover.


	3. Chapter 3

Lee got up at five, like he always did, and went for a run. He had slept poorly the night before, dreams filled with impossible eyes and the rustle of sand. His laps around the village were not nearly as invigorating as he’d hoped they would be, nor were his other training exercises, but the shower afterward was hot enough to shock him into alertness. He briefly considered an early morning visit with his sensei, but it seemed unlikely that Gai would be up to it. He would smile and laugh and answer all of Lee’s questions, of course, but he would be miserable the entire time. Lee decided to wait until the afternoon.

Coffee, then, though it wouldn’t be half as helpful as a conversation with Gai, and a hearty breakfast. While he ate, Lee mentally reviewed his wardrobe. He wasn’t sure what the dress code was for a formal event with two Kages in attendance, but he doubted his usual jumpsuit would pass muster. Tsunade probably wouldn’t kick him out, but he didn’t want to embarrass her or Gaara.

The nicest thing he owned—by a very wide margin—was a jacket that Tenten and Neji had given him for his last birthday. It was green silk with a mandarin collar and orange frogs.

_“You look so dashing!”_ Tenten had said, giggling, when he’d tried it on for them.

Neji had examined him critically for several seconds before nodding. _“It will do.”_

The jacket, then, and plain black pants—and, of course, his legwarmers, because some things were non-negotiable. Lee sighed into his coffee. He’d never had to think so much about his clothes before.

The next hour passed sluggishly. Lee began to wish he had run extra laps so that he wouldn’t have had to wait so long. He forced himself to sit down and tried to read a book on tactics that he’d gotten from the library. His mind wandered anyway, drifting slowly but inevitably to Gaara. The shift in his thoughts occurred so gradually he didn’t notice until he caught himself wondering whether Gaara prefered coffee or tea, or if he liked both. Lee shook himself, but he couldn’t get rid of the image of Gaara with his hands curled around a mug, steam rising as he breathed in the scent, eyes closed and expression peaceful.

He probably should have been embarrassed to have such domestic fantasies, but more than anything he wanted Gaara to be happy.

A rustling at his kitchen window drew Lee's attention. There was a crow hopping back and forth on the sill, bobbing its shiny head. Lee had rescued it last spring, after its parents had fallen prey to a particularly vicious neighborhood cat, and it often visited for food or followed him around the village.

“I was wondering when you'd turn up,” Lee said, wagging his finger in mock reproach. He'd made stir fry the other night and saved a few small chunks of meat for exactly this occasion. The crow made impatient noises at him while he dug through his fridge.

“Do you feed every animal you meet?”

Lee made sure to grab the scraps before he turned away from the refrigerator. Gaara was crouched in the windowsill. The crow, ousted from its preferred spot, hopped on the counter.

“No, but this one is a special case.” Lee glanced at the clock. Gaara was almost ten minutes early.

Gaara caught the motion. “I was bored,” he said, climbing over the counter and into Lee's kitchen. “This is the crow you wrote about. Is it your pet?” He said the word carefully, like it was from some foreign language that he was entirely unfamiliar with.

“Crows are wild animals. You can’t keep them as pets.” Not for lack of trying on Lee’s part. “I couldn’t keep a pet anyway. I’m away from home too often,” Lee said, not without some regret. He put the meat on a plate, then set it near the crow.

Gaara watched the bird eat for a moment before he spoke. “You care for it. You feed it. Doesn’t that make it your pet?”

“There’s more to it than that. If I had a pet, it would live with me, for one thing, and I’d take care of it when it was sick, and it would comfort me when I was sad.”

“You told me this bird made its nest in the eaves over your window, you’ve taken it to the veterinarian, and you’ve written on more than one occasion that seeing it always makes you happy, no matter your mood.” Gaara held up three fingers in turn as he listed off his points.

“That’s all true,” Lee said, because it was (He could distinctly remember writing _Its bright eyes always bring joy to my heart!_ ), “but it’s still a wild animal. It doesn’t need me to take care of it. If I disappeared tomorrow, it would be able to find food and shelter for itself.”

Gaara was still staring at the crow. It had abandoned the now-empty plate in favor of investigating Lee’s spice rack. “Dependence is what makes an animal a pet?”

“Well, sometimes.” The absurdity of the situation hit Lee all at once. Gaara of the Desert, feared throughout the shinobi world, former jinchuriki host and current kazekage, was standing in his kitchen, talking about pets. Lee began to chuckle.

“You're laughing at me.” Gaara narrowed his eyes.

“No, no, of course not! It's just that all this is pretty far from my usual morning.” Lee made a broad gesture that encompassed Gaara, himself, the crow on the counter, and the entirety of his kitchen.

Gaara watched the arc Lee's hand made. “And that amuses you?” He sounded skeptical. Lee knew that Gaara hated any disruption to his routine.

“A bit. Mostly I am glad to spend my morning with you!” Lee gave Gaara a thumbs up, fighting a blush.

“You would normally be training now.” Lee had written about the pattern of his life often enough that Gaara would know that. He probably knew Lee’s days almost as well as Lee did.

“Yes, but today is not a normal day! Not that spending time with you is abnormal, or that you’re abnormal—I meant—”

“Lee.” Gaara’s tone was unreadable. “Are you all right?”

“Of course. Why?” Lee didn’t fidget under Gaara’s stare, but it was a near thing.

“Your face is very red.” Gaara reached up and put the back of his fingers against Lee’s cheek.

“Is. . . is it?” Lee wanted to lean into Gaara’s touch like a cat. Instead he held himself very still.

“Yes.”

“I’m, ah,” Lee trailed off. Gaara had turned his hand around so that the pads of his fingers were brushing Lee’s temple. They were soft, entirely uncalloused. Lee gave into temptation and pressed his face against Gaara’s cool palm. He wanted to screw his eyes shut in embarrassment, but he made himself watch Gaara.

“Oh,” Gaara said softly. He stepped closer and lifted his other hand to cup Lee’s face. He ran his fingers through Lee’s hair, then traced the shell of his ear, dragging his hand down to rest against his neck.

Lee felt his pulse beating against that gentle pressure. He could count on one hand the number of people he would allow to touch his neck. He hadn’t realized until just now that Gaara was one of them.

“Oi, Gaara!” Kankuro shouted from the street below. “We’re going to be late!” A bundle of cloth came soaring through the window, startling the crow. It croaked indignantly before flapping to the sill and then out of the window.

“We should go.” Lee wasn’t sure why he was whispering.

“Yes.”

Neither moved.

“We don’t want to be late.” Lee would happily be later than Kakashi if it meant he could spend more time like this.

“No.” Gaara drew back. His hands dropped awkwardly to his sides. He stooped to pick up the cloth, which turned out to be his robe and hat. He donned both.

“Let’s go!” Lee said, as brightly as he could manage. His heart was racing, and seeing Gaara in his official clothes was doing unexpected and entirely inappropriate things to his imagination. Maybe training with Kakashi had been a bad idea after all.

Kankuro was waiting for them outside of Lee’s apartment building. He glanced between the two of them, eyes narrowed suspiciously, but all he said was, “I guess you do own clothes other than those jumpsuits. Temari is going to be so fucking smug when she finds out.” He hung his head, but he was smiling a bit.

“Why is that?” Lee asked, against his better judgement.

“They had a bet.” Gaara sounded vaguely amused. Lee wasn’t sure how many people would be able to tell.

“Which I just lost.” Kankuro was remarkably cheerful for such a statement. “Are we ready to go or what?” He took off without waiting for an answer.

They arrived at the stadium at exactly eight o’clock, thirty minutes before the start of the first match. Their box was already milling with important people—Tsunade-sama, of course, and Shizune, several ninja Lee recognized as clan heads, and some Sand ninja of presumably equal status. ANBU lurked unobtrusively around the edges. He, Gaara, and Kankuro were the last to arrive.

Lee took a deep breath, then let it out in a startled gasp when Gaara brushed the backs of their hands together. From someone else, the gesture probably wouldn’t have meant much, but Lee found it strangely reassuring. He smiled at Gaara.

Gaara, ever so slightly, smiled back.


	4. Chapter 4

Genma stepped into the center of the arena and held his hand up. The low rumble of the spectators quieted quickly. “Round one.” His voice carried, clear and sharp. “Saki from the Village Hidden in the Mist versus Hyuuga Minako from the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Begin!”

The two young women circled each other warily. Minako looked Hyuuga to the bone. Her long dark hair hung free around her pale face. Saki was broad-shouldered and muscled like a bull.

Minako lunged. Her strike missed, and she stumbled. Saki tried to take advantage of the opportunity, swinging for Minako’s back, kunai in hand, but Minako rolled away. The Konoha genin came up with a barrage of blows that her opponent struggled to block.

“My money's on that Hyuuga kid,” Tsunade said.

Nara Shikaku laughed. “That's a bet you're going to lose, Hokage-sama.”

“Oh? And what makes you say that?” Hyuuga Hiashi fixed Shikaku with that unnerving stare. Hanabi, still and silent at his side, looked like an oversized porcelain doll.

Shikaku jerked his chin toward Lee. “You see it too, don't you, kid? Why don't you tell him.”

Lee would have preferred to have spent the morning watching the matches and being ignored by the assorted VIPs, but he stood up straighter and squared his shoulders when he felt their eyes on him. “She's putting too much chakra into her strikes. See how Saki staggers with each hit? It should be a tap, not a blow. And I don’t think she’s managed to hit any nodes directly yet. If I had to guess, I’d say the excess chakra is to compensate for her lack of precision. She’ll empty her reserves too quickly at this rate, and then Saki will win the match.”

Hiashi narrowed his eyes, but Lee spent too much time with Neji to be put off by it. “You seem very familiar with the Gentle Fist style.”

Lee laughed, hoping it didn't sound as nervous as it felt. “I should be, as often as I get hit with it.”

Shikaku was grinning like he’d just scored a point. Hiashi sniffed and turned back to the match. Tsunade sighed. Down in the arena, Minako had slowed dramatically and Saki was pressing her advantage.

Hanabi was staring at Lee. She slipped away from her father’s side and approached him, glancing curiously at Gaara. Gaara ignored her. “You’re Neji-nii-san’s friend.”

Lee beamed down at her. “Yes! Your cousin and I train together often.” Whenever they were both in the village, which wasn’t as often as either would like.

“I. . .” Hanabi frowned, looked over her shoulder at her father, then turned back to Lee with an expression of fierce determination. “I sometimes have the same problem Minako-chan does with using too much chakra. Father says it’s because I’m too emotional. I thought, maybe, you might be able to help? Because you know Neji-nii-san so well.” She clasped her hands together and watched him hopefully.

“My chakra control is very bad,” Lee said. It used to be an embarrassing admission, but now it was just the truth. “I can’t use any kind of ninjutsu or genjutsu at all. So I’m probably not the best person to ask.”

“But!” Hanabi’s face crumpled. “Are you sure?”

Lee wracked his brain for some piece of advice to give her. “Well, when Neji and I were just starting out as genin, he would often balance senbon. He would concentrate very small and precise amounts of chakra on his palm or fingertips and hold the senbon steady for as long as he could.”

Hanabi nodded seriously. “Thank you so much!” She began to bow, but stopped and hugged Lee instead. “I’ll start doing that as soon as I get home!” She stepped back and grinned up at him.

“I’ve seen Kankuro doing something similar,” Gaara said, without turning away from the match.

Hanabi gasped. “Kazekage-sama!” She turned to Lee with wonder in her eyes. “You’re friends with so many powerful shinobi!”

Lee hadn’t ever thought about it that way, but he supposed he was. “They’re my friends because of who they are, not what they can do.”

Gaara looked down at Hanabi. “Lee is not to be discounted. He has saved my life in the past.”

“Really?”

Gaara nodded.

There was a sharp crash from the arena. Lee leaned over the railing to get a better look, Hanabi by his side. Hiashi appeared in an instant, holding the back of her robe but not pulling her in.

Saki had thrown Minako through a tree. The Mist genin was breathing hard, and a line of blood ran down her shaved scalp. Genma approached Minako’s still form. He crouched beside her for several seconds, then stood. “The winner of this match is Saki!” The medical team rushed toward both combatants.

The crowd roared.

“Why are you always right?” Tsunade slapped Shikaku on the back. He stumbled but didn't fall.

“Wow,” Hanabi breathed, still staring down into the arena. “I can’t wait until I take the exam!”

Hiashi tugged gently on her robe until she dropped back to her feet. “Kazekage-sama, I apologize for my daughter. I assure you she will not bother you in the future.”

“She wasn't bothering me. You would know if she had.”

Lee cringed.

“She was right to come to Lee. She saw there was a gap in her education and took appropriate steps to fix it. Resourcefulness is a valuable trait.” Gaara turned back to the arena.

Hiashi bristled. “With all due respect, Kazekage-sama, perhaps you are not very familiar with—”

“He's trying to tell you that you've got a bright kid, Hiashi.” Shikaku slung his arm around Hiashi’s shoulders. “Can't you just take the compliment?”

“The compliment was not meant for—”

Lee grabbed Gaara’s hand. His jaw snapped shut. “The two genin up next are both from Suna, right? Why don't you tell me about them.”

Gaara stared blankly at Lee for several long seconds. Eventually he said, “They're both from the same team. They scored well at the academy but excelled in different areas. Toya prefers close to mid-range ninjutsu, while Mesen uses genjutsu.” He sounded like he was reading off a list.

“A showdown between teammates! This is sure to be an exciting match.” Lee was still holding Gaara’s hand, but he didn’t seem to mind, so Lee decided to leave well enough alone.

“Yes.” The corner of Gaara’s mouth twitched up. “Try to actually watch this one.”

Was Gaara _teasing_ him? Lee beamed. “You have a very cute smile,” he said, which was not at all what he’d meant to say. His grin turned nervous as heat flooded his face.

Shikaku had grabbed the Hyuugas and was leading them away, talking loudly about something Lee couldn’t hear over his own mortification. He would be grateful later, once he was done wishing the earth would open up beneath him.

“You say such strange things sometimes.” The way Gaara creased his brows when he was confused was also quite cute, but Lee managed to keep that to himself. “The next match is about to start.”

“Yes, right, of course. I will watch it intently!” Lee set his shoulders and turned to face the arena. He valiantly ignored Tsunade’s snickering.

“You do everything intently.”

It sounded like Tsunade was now laughing so hard she couldn’t breath, but Lee had no intention of looking to be sure.

“It is one of your more admirable qualities.” Gaara said it so quietly that Lee almost didn’t hear him.

The slow-motion train crash in Lee’s brain was put on hold by Genma announcing the start of the second match. The ensuing fight was brutal and well-fought, but Lee struggled to pay attention. All he could focus on was the weight of Gaara’s hand in his.

It was a little ridiculous to get so worked up over hand-holding, but Gaara allowed contact so rarely. He was probably the most touch starved person Lee had ever met. With that in mind, Lee gave Gaara’s fingers a gentle squeeze. Gaara tensed, but only for a moment. He twisted his hand around to return the gesture.

Tension Lee hadn't realized he was carrying lifted, and he finally turned his full focus to the match.


	5. Chapter 5

Lee stepped into the buttery mid-morning sunlight, still feeling the secondhand thrill of watching a well-fought battle. He glanced around at the other spectators leaving the arena, most of them chattering about the fights and wondering which of the genin would be promoted.

After the final match, Lee, mouth moving faster than his brain, had asked Gaara if he wanted to spar later. To Lee's continuing surprise, he had not only said yes but promised to find Lee once he was free. The conversation was cut short by Shizune, who was politely but firmly herding out all of the plus-ones.

The dull roar of the crowd faded as Lee slipped away. He had a half-formed plan to take side streets back to his apartment, change, and then find Gai-sensei, but it vanished when he caught sight of a familiar ponytail.

“Neji!” Lee broke into a trot. “Neji, hey!”

Neji paused and waited for Lee to catch up. His hair band was pink today, which probably meant it had once belonged to Tenten. As far as Lee could tell, half of Neji's hair ties had originally been Tenten’s and vice versa. Lee was reasonably certain that if he still wore his hair long it would be an even three way split.

“When did you get back?” Lee knew he had been on an escort mission, though Neji had been unable to discuss the details.

“Less than an hour ago. I'm heading to the mission desk to turn in my report.”

“I'll walk with you.” Lee already had a mission lined up, and he always turned his reports in promptly, so his only reason for going was to keep Neji company.

Neji nodded, and they fell into step together.

“How did it go?” Such a question was broad enough that Neji should be able to answer it.

“Everything went well. It was quiet—no combat.”

Lee knew Neji was disappointed by that, just as he knew that he'd never admit it. “You must be feeling restless! We should spar after you drop off your report.” Gaara _had_ promised to spar with Lee when he had some free time, but there was no telling how long it would be until then. In the meantime, Lee's blood was still up from watching the fights, and a friendly match against Neji sounded perfect.

Neji smiled. He had been doing more of that lately. “I would like that.”

“Excellent!”

Iruka was manning the desk when they arrived. He looked a little worse for the wear, and he flinched when a trio of genin began to argue loudly. They quieted the moment they realized Iruka was glaring at them. He turned a thin smile to Neji and Lee.

“I'm always happy to see you two come in,” Iruka said. “You're always on time, and you both have such neat handwriting.” He scowled briefly at a group of jounin loitering by the entrance.

“You're too kind, Iruka-sensei.” Neji handed over his report. Iruka gave it only a cursory glance before approving it.

As they exited the office, Lee turned left while Neji started right. “Didn't you want to spar?”

Neji raised a brow. “You'll ruin that if you fight in it.” He gestured to Lee's jacket.

“Oh! I'd forgotten all about it.” Lee fussed with the cuffs.

“Of course you did.” Neji rolled his eyes.

They set off for Lee's apartment.

“What's the occasion, anyway?”

Lee was not the kind of person who lied to his friends, or even the kind of person who considered it, but for one painful moment he sincerely wished he were. “I went to the Chunin Exam finals with Gaara,” he said, voice carefully neutral.

Neji’s expression didn't change. “I see.” He matched his tone to Lee's.

They had had this argument before. Its terrain was so familiar they could navigate it blindfolded. It went something like this:

_Your fascination with him is unhealthy._

_This isn't some morbid obsession. He's my friend._

_People like him don't have friends._

_I used to say the same thing about you._

They had reached an unspoken agreement not to bring it up. It still bubbled to the surface sometimes, when Lee was regaling Tenten or Naruto with some interesting bit of trivia from one of Gaara’s letters—a list of uses for cactus spines, desert survival strategies, the small shy foxes that roamed Suna’s streets at night. Neji’s mouth would go hard and thin, and Lee would find himself changing the subject without entirely meaning to.

(Lee thought that if he shared the personal context of those impersonal facts, Neji might be more understanding, but he could never quite do it. Gaara revealed pieces of himself so rarely, and most often by accident. So Lee hoarded them like a magpie, those snippets and slivers of Gaara’s life; the night he had watched Kankuro use softened cactus spines as makeshift sutures to stitch up a gash in Temari’s arm; the time his father had tried to kill him by having him abandoned in a sandstorm; the way the foxes watched him make his nightly rounds, eyes shining in the dark.)

“How was it?” Neji's voice held only bland, polite curiosity.

“Everything was wonderful!” Lee really meant it, and he hoped his enthusiasm would help change Neji's mind. “Hiashi was there,” he added.

Neji must have seen the subject change for the olive branch it was, because he relaxed into the more comfortable topic. “I had expected as much. Just how badly did you antagonize him?” He was smiling a bit, as close to playful as he ever got.

“I didn't do anything this time!” Lee made a show of being defensive. “But Gaara did suggest that Hanabi’s education is, er, lacking.” Gaara on his own was a safe topic; it was only Gaara-and-Lee that got Neji's hackles up.

Neji covered his mouth when he laughed, which Tenten found charming but Lee had always found sad. “I imagine that didn't go over well.”

“No one caused any international incidents, so I'd say everything worked out all right.” Lee grinned. Neji smiled back, bright and sly. He could be a terrible best friend sometimes, but Lee loved him anyway.

* * *

 

“First to two?” Neji offered, as they took their usual starting positions at their usual training ground.

“First to two. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Lee made the first move, like always. Neji dodged the opening salvo, as Lee had expected.

They fell into the pattern they had perfected over the years. This kind of sparring was more about burning off excess energy and staying fit than winning, though bragging rights were a nice bonus. It was more blocks and parries than landed hits. Lee knew what Neji was going to do next when he shifted his weight just so, or brought up his left arm instead of his right.

Their fights were often mind games now, each trying to counter moves the other hadn't made yet. Neji had always been better at that kind of thing, but Lee was still faster. Lee ducked under Neji’s arm and elbowed him in the solar plexus, then darted back out of reach. Neji gasped, though it might almost have been laughter, and followed him.

Lee won the first round, with his arm across Neji's neck and Neji's back to a tree. “Point!”

They started their second round. Neji took the lead, herding Lee in circles. He was smirking, which didn't bode well. Lee knew he was being led into something, but he was curious enough that he followed anyway. Passers-by drifted in and out of his awareness, but none held his attention.

Neji stopped, and Lee drew up short. After several seconds, when it seemed like Neji was just going to keep standing there, Lee gave an exploratory swipe. Neji sidestepped it, and Lee found himself staring at Gaara.

He was standing on the outskirts of the training ground, evidently watching them. Kankuro, still playing bodyguard, stood at his side.

“Point.” Neji tapped Lee's chest, over his heart.

Gaara narrowed his eyes. “That was sloppy.”

Lee flushed. “I apologize for my poor performance! I did not expect to see you so soon.”

“Kazekage-sama, you honor us with your presence.” Neji bowed. He slipped into obeisance like a dog into a collar, and Lee hated it.

“I came here to watch you fight, not mouth pretty words.” Gaara gestured sharply. “Get on with it.”

Eager to prove himself after his earlier slip-up, Lee won the third round in under twenty seconds. “Point!”

Neji laughed breathlessly. “Showing off, hm?”

Lee didn't know what to say to that, but Neji didn't seem to need an answer.

“I didn't realize before. You're _attracted_ to him,” Neji whispered. With his head bowed, his hair formed a curtain that stymied potential lip readers.

“It's not like that!” Lee hissed back.

“For him or for you?”

“You don't even like him!” Lee said a bit desperately.

“I don't. And I think that any relationship you have with him is going to end badly. You don't care what I think, though, and you're too stubborn not to go after something you want. Since you're going to do something stupid, you should at least do it knowing that I've got your back.” Neji smiled and stepped away. “Go make your bad decisions.”


	6. Chapter 6

Lee squared his shoulders and set off across the training ground toward Gaara, standing just past the tree line. Kankuro had disappeared, though Lee doubted he'd gone far.

“So, what did you think?” Lee bounced on his heels, smiling and a bit nervous.

“You were impressive, as always.” Gaara said it plainly, as though it were so obvious it barely needed mentioning. He looked over to Neji, who was politely pretending not to eavesdrop. “The two of you are close.”

“Well, yes!” Lee wasn't sure what to make of the sudden subject change. “We've been training together since we were first made genin, and friends for almost as long.”

Gaara scowled at Neji. “Friends.” Neji was still calmly re-tying his bandages, but the line of his back had gone tense.

“Yes?”

“You write about him often.”

“Of course. He's an important part of my life.” Gaara's frown deepened, and Lee hastened to add, “All of my friends are.” Lee looked from the rigid set of Gaara's jaw to where Neji had settled under a tree with a book he wasn't reading. “You're not jealous, are you? Of Neji?”

Gaara turned on his heel and headed into the trees. Lee followed, confusion and concern warring for dominance. “Gaara?”

They were quite a ways away from their starting point when Gaara stopped. It was hard to get any privacy in a ninja village, especially one with Hyuugas in it, but it seemed like Gaara had done the best he could in an unfamiliar area on short notice. “What is he to you?” Gaara demanded. He still had his back to Lee.

“I told you already, he's my friend. Gaara, what's all this about?” Lee put his hand on Gaara's shoulder. A wave of sand climbed his arm, then dropped to press against his side like a child seeking comfort before dissipating entirely.

“It made me angry, to see him standing so close to you. Is that jealousy? I've read about it. I thought I would know it when I felt it.” Gaara finally turned to face Lee. He was frowning, confused and frustrated. “I didn't expect it to hurt.”

Lee's heart lurched. “It's normal to be jealous,” he said, aiming for reassuring even as his own uncertainty crept into his voice. “But you don't have to be jealous of Neji, or any of my other friends. What I have with them doesn't take away from what I have with you.” He smiled and tried to catch Gaara's eyes.

“What _do_ you have with me?”

It sounded like an honest question, but it still felt like a trap. Lee knew Gaara wouldn't have asked it if he didn't want the answer, but Lee wasn't sure what the answer _was_. “You're my friend, of course,” he hedged.

Gaara didn't look satisfied with that. Lee jumped in with both feet.

“This morning, was that a date? A romantic date?”

Gaara crossed his arms. The gesture looked more defensive than anything else, like he was curling in on himself. “I don't know. Did you want it to be?” He spoke quietly, voice hoarse with something Lee didn't dare try to name.

“I did. I still do.” Lee set his hands on Gaara's elbows. “What did _you_ want it to be? Why did you ask me to go with you?”

“I thought you would enjoy it. I wanted to spend time with you.” Gaara looked down at Lee's hands, callused and bandaged and strong. “You keep touching me. I don't like to be touched, but I don't mind when you do it.” He shifted, took one of Lee's hands in both of his own. “I don't understand you at all,” he said softly, tracing his fingertips over Lee's knuckles.

Lee knew his history was laid out on his hands. They were not pretty, as much a tool as the rest of his body, but he wasn't ashamed of them, or the story they told. Gaara picked at the bandages but made no attempt to unwind them, apparently content with studying Lee's ragged nails and brushing his thumbs over any scars thick enough to be found through the wrapping.

“Gaara.” Lee waited until Gaara met his eyes. “Whatever you want from me, from _us_ , I'll do it gladly. But you have to tell me. I can't read your mind.”

With slow, deliberate movements, Gaara released Lee's hand and slid his gourd from his back to set it on the ground. “What if I want to kiss you?”

Lee's heart stammered. He felt like he was seeing Gaara for the first time. The curve of his lip, his tiny, adorable nose, the astonishing color of his eyes—how had he never noticed before? “Then kiss me.”

Gaara did. It was unpracticed, a little awkward. They bumped their noses together, and Gaara’s lips were chapped. It was nice anyway, warm and searching and soft. Lee wouldn't have changed anything about it for the world.

“That was. . . pleasant,” Gaara said. He sounded almost surprised.

Lee couldn't stop smiling. “Yes! It was a celebration of the Purity of Youth!”

Gaara gave him a skeptical look. It made his nose crinkle charmingly, so Lee booped it. Gaara crossed his eyes trying to watch Lee's finger. Lee laughed, giddy, and pulled Gaara into a hug.

“You're ridiculous,” Gaara muttered, tone perilously close to affectionate.

Lee kissed him then, just because he could. They fit together better on the second try. Lee ran a hand through Gaara’s hair and was unsurprised to find it slightly coarse.

Gaara pressed closer, hands coming to rest uncertainly at Lee's waist. “I don't know what I'm doing,” he admitted against Lee's mouth, entirely unembarrassed.

“Neither do I.” Lee pulled back so Gaara could see his grin. “I look forward to learning together!” He gave Gaara his best thumbs-up.

Gaara plucked Lee's hand out of the air and began to fuss with his bandages. “I want to take these off,” he said, with the easy confidence of one who was rarely denied.

It wasn't what Lee had been expecting, but at least it was easy to answer. “Of course! But, er, why?”

“I want to feel your skin against mine when you touch me.”

Lee's brain ground to a halt. He watched dumbly as Gaara unwrapped his hand. He was gentler than Lee usually was, fingers light and delicate on the inside of Lee's wrist. His skin seemed hypersensitive, every point of contact fraught with meaning and burning in the best possible way. “What?” Lee managed weakly.

The last few inches of cloth fell to the ground. Gaara looked up. “Is this okay?” He was still holding Lee's wrist, but his grip was loose.

“Yes.” Lee swallowed dryly. “What did you mean a moment ago, about me—” He took a deep breath and made himself finish the sentence. “About me touching you?” His imagination happily provided him with a variety of scenarios in which he was touching Gaara, none of them appropriate for a public place.

Gaara opened his tunic one-handed, then put Lee's palm against his bare chest.

_Over his heart_ , Lee thought dizzily. Gaara's skin was warm and unblemished. His pulse was a little fast, and Lee felt there was something heady in knowing he was responsible for that. Lee rubbed his thumb over the curve of Gaara's ribs. Gaara shivered, and that was even better.

Gaara crowded against him, and Lee let his hand slide to Gaara's waist. “You could kill me so easily right now,” Gaara murmured to the hollow of Lee's throat. “You could snap my neck before I had a chance to react, or rip my heart out of my chest.” His tone was almost dreamy, like he was whispering endearments.

Lee tried to recoil and pull Gaara closer at the same time, which resulted in him staggering a half-step back and dragging Gaara with him. “I would never do that!”

“I know.” Lee could feel Gaara’s breath on his skin, the slightest brush of his lips. It was pleasant despite the subject at hand. “I knew that you trusted me, even though I'm still not sure why. I didn't recognize until now that I trust you in return.”

“I'm honored,” Lee said, because it was true and Gaara deserved to hear it. “Your trust is a precious gift that I will defend with all my strength!” He realized that the commotion had somehow put both of his hands at the small of Gaara's back. He gently stroked the skin under his bare fingers, and Gaara sighed and leaned into him.

“That won't be necessary.” Gaara shifted to meet Lee's eyes. “This is enough.”

_Enough for what?_ Lee wanted to ask, but Gaara kissed him again, fiercer and more desperate than before. The sudden addition of teeth and tongue took him by surprise, but Lee adapted quickly. He licked into Gaara's mouth, relying mostly on the books he would only reluctantly admit to having read. It was apparently the right thing to do, because Gaara's tongue met his, which was much nicer than expected.

Lee was hyper-aware of where his hands were, pressed against bare skin and just above Gaara's waistband. He let his unbandaged hand travel, exploring the curve of Gaara's spine.

Gaara took up his own study, abandoning Lee's mouth in favor of kissing along his jawline. He scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin behind Lee's ear, and Lee gasped.

Nearby, a bird squawked loudly, reminding the rational part of Lee's brain that they were still outside in a nominally public place. The possibility of getting caught was both terrifying and a little bit thrilling, the latter of which Lee tamped down immediately. “Gaara,” he whispered, “we should—this isn't the place to—we should stop.”

Gaara drew back and narrowed his eyes.

“It's not that I'm not enjoying this! I am! Um. A lot. It's just that maybe this isn't the best place for, um.” _Making out?_ suggested a voice rather like Tenten's

“Yes.” Gaara closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his face had returned to its usual expressionless mask. “You're right. We should go back before Kankuro starts looking for me.”

“Yes, right, definitely!” It hadn't occurred to Lee that Kankuro might come looking for his charge, but it probably should have. He gathered his dropped bandage from the ground and tried not to watch as Gaara re-tied his tunic. Skin disappearing behind fabric was almost as fascinating as the reverse.

“You're staring,” Gaara said. “I don't mind. You can stare if you want,” he added over Lee's spluttering objections. He lifted his gourd onto his back like it weighed nothing. “Well?” He gestured toward the direction they had come from.

Lee grinned at him, light-headed and light-hearted. “Let's go!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My original outline for this bastard was four chapters. ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha fuck

Kankuro had not come looking for Gaara. He and Neji were sitting next to each other—Neji with his legs folded neatly beneath him, Kankuro sprawled on the grass—and looked to be deep in conversation.

“Oh no,” Lee breathed.

Gaara gave him a look. “I thought you would be glad they're getting along.”

Neji knew every embarrassing thing that Lee had said or done since he was twelve years old. “I am! Friendship is, er. . .” He trailed off, mind playing a highlight reel of all the things Neji could have told Kankuro that would inevitably get around to Gaara.

They got closer, and Lee breathed a sigh of relief. Neji had his hands folded demurely in his lap, and he was holding himself with the perfect posture that Lee had once envied, though now he knew it to be a sign of discomfort. Neji was evidently too aware of who he was talking with to have relaxed enough to tell any of the really awful stories, but Lee still felt a twinge of disappointment. It would have been nice if they could have been friends.

“There you guys are!” Kankuro waved them over. “Lee, I can't believe you're friends with this asshole!” He was smiling, so Lee doubted the insult was genuine, but sometimes it could be hard to tell with him.

“So? Did you take my advice?” Neji cocked his head, smile as innocent as a lamb.

Lee blushed furiously. _This must be payback for abandoning him with Kankuro._ “I don't think telling me to make bad decisions counts as advice,” Lee pointed out.

“Everything worked out, then.” Neji looked from Lee to Gaara. They were standing close enough that their shoulders brushed.

Lee smiled at Gaara. He knew his expression was sappy and love-struck, but he didn't care. “Everything worked out perfectly.”

Neji opened his mouth, but Kankuro broke in with, “Weren't you two going to spar?” Neji nearly scowled at the interruption. “It should be a hell of a fight.”

With everything else going on, Lee had nearly forgotten. “That's right! Gaara, do you still want to?” Lee could barely contain his excitement.

“Yes,” Gaara said, after a long silence Lee couldn't decipher. His expression gave nothing away.

Lee put it from his mind, determined to enjoy the match.

Sparring with Gaara was as exhilarating as Lee had expected it to be. He dodged under a javelin made of sand and kicked a low arc. The clone crumbled on impact. Lee expected the falling sand to close around his leg, but it drew back instead. He followed it to Gaara. His next strike hit the Sand Barrier, but it too retreated rather than grab onto him.

Lee threw himself into a whirlwind of blows. Sprays of sand shot up like fireworks. A ridge of sand rolled toward him, and Lee used it as a foothold to vault over the Barrier and get in Gaara's face.

“You're faster than ever,” Gaara said with something like pride in his voice.

Lee's heart suddenly felt too big for his chest, but he didn't let himself get distracted. He punched toward Gaara’s abdomen. Sand absorbed the hit, retreating from his arm as soon as he lost his momentum.

They had begun to attract an audience, though Lee tried not to pay too much attention to them. He focused instead on the familiar rhythm of battle, and the unfamiliar thrill of having Gaara as his opponent. They had both improved since the last time they had faced off, and the circumstances couldn't have been more different. Now Lee's giddy laughter was met with a faint smile and a lob of sand aimed at his mouth rather than derision and murderous intent.

“Do your best, Lee! Show him the true Power and Beauty of Youth!” It was Gai-sensei’s voice, rising over the small crowd of onlookers. Lee grinned. He always did better with his sensei watching.

“Come on, Gai.” Kakashi this time, somehow clearly audible even though he was speaking at a normal volume rather than shouting. “Do we really need to watch their foreplay?”

Lee nearly stumbled, turning it into a graceless dodge at the last second. Gaara failed utterly to take advantage of his distraction. Lee frowned suspiciously. A burst of speed and a feint got him past the Barrier again and back into Gaara's personal space. The sand surrounded them like a bubble. They were shielded from most prying eyes, but Lee knew it couldn't last. “You're going easy on me,” he whispered, accusatory.

“Yes.” At least Gaara didn't try to deny it. “I don't want to hurt you.” He wouldn't meet Lee's eyes.

Lee gently cupped Gaara’s cheek. “You won't,” he said simply.

“Lee, I _have_ hurt you. Badly.” Gaara stepped back. A wall of sand erupted between them, forcing Lee away as their temporary shelter crumbled.

Enough was enough. “I won't take an unearned victory, Gaara!” Lee shifted into an offensive stance. “Come at me like you mean it, or don't come at me at all!” He closed the small gap between them in a heartbeat, trying to force Gaara to engage him. Most of his blows were deflected or absorbed by the sand, though he felt a few make contact. He landed a kick on Gaara's hip, hard enough to make him stagger.

Lee tackled him while he was still unbalanced. Gaara's gourd dissolved just before it hit the ground, softening their landing. Lee pressed down on Gaara's shoulders, straddling his waist. Their faces were close enough to feel the other’s breath.

Someone in the crowd gasped loudly. It might have been Gai-sensei.

Lee was aware of every place his body was touching Gaara. Their audience had gone silent, but their collective gaze was heavy. “I won't stand for you going easy on me,” Lee whispered fiercely.

“I don't want to—”

“You won't hurt me. Not like before. A few scrapes and bruises are unavoidable, but I know you won't seriously injure me again.”

“How can you _say_ that?” The confusion in Gaara's voice was painful to hear. “A moment of inattention, and I could—” Gaara cut himself off and looked away.

“You won't,” Lee repeated. “You said you trust me, right?”

“Yes.”

“And I trust you. Can you trust yourself?”

Gaara swallowed. “I'll try. For you.”

“That's all I can ask.” Lee stood and held out his hand. Gaara took it, letting Lee pull him to his feet. “What do you say we start this match over?”

Gaara met Lee's eyes. He smiled, just a little, and squeezed Lee's hand. “Yes, let's.”


End file.
